The Heat of the Night
by Kjertsi
Summary: England suffers through a heat wave, and Will and Kate face a long separation. WillKate


It was far too hot in England that summer. Kate thought so, at least, and being that she was nearly ready to birth her first child, very few dared argue with her. Only the barest hint of a soft breeze slipped through the window and found its way to where the mistress of the house lay in alleged repose. 

Kate's confidante Christiana sat on a stool next to the bed, humming softly while she embroidered a handkerchief for her husband Roland. At present, Christiana was the only person in the house who could tolerate Kate's company for any length of time. Uncomfortable and overheated as she was, Kate's normally formidable temper had cracked. The gentlemen of her acquaintance had quickly learnt to tread carefully around their friend. Chaucer, quite wisely, had made his excuses and trotted off to the French court the moment it had become clear to the herald just how precarious the coming months would be if he stayed at the Thatcher manor. The others had soon wished to join him - at the very next Sunday dinner, Kate had overtired herself and compensated by telling Wat off for chewing his food too loudly.

And as for her husband... Will had been nothing short of ecstatic when Kate and whispered to him that she was to bear his child. He had taken the full onslaught of her angers, fears, and anticipations these past few weeks as cheerfully as he could manage, having been reassured by both his father and Roland (who was himself the proud papa of a baby daughter born the past midwinter). Kate knew William was taking special care to appease her and tried his best not to anger her unnecessarily. For all his efforts, he had managed to gain a steady hold on his wife's good graces.

Then came the damnable, unyielding heat, and all of Will's good intentions were for naught. Kate tossed and turned well into the night, unable to relax comfortably between the feverish air and the restless stirrings of the babe. She had just managed to settle into a light slumber when William flung his arm out, smacking Kate soundly across the shoulder. Furious, she rose from the bed and pulled on her dressing gown, fiercely vowing to seek her slumber elsewhere. As she struggled with her slippers, quite the task when her feet had been strangers to her eyes these past two months, Will woke and stared at her in sleepy confusion. He blinked twice, then seemed to conme to his senses as he scrambled from the bed, panic stricken.

"Kate, dearest, what ails you? Is it the baby? Shall I send for the midwife?" Will rambled on, hardly stopping to breathe until Kate silenced him with a glare. Will's face fell as he understood the full extent of his predicament. "Oh God, what have I done now?"

Still livid about the disruption of her all-too-rare slumber, Kate tried to move past him and through the door without answering his query, but Will was much quicker on his feet than she and he blocked her way, steering her onto a chaise without much effort. Kate stubbornly struggled to her feet and marched out into the corridor before William was able to halt her again.

"Let me pass."

"I'll do nothing of the sort until you can explain what's got you so worked up. Kate... you've just gone mad on everyone." Exasperated, Will exhaled loudly. "Look, I know this can't have been the easiest time for you, being penned up inside and all. But in a few weeks, maybe even days from the look of you, all of this will be over. We'll have our baby to look after, and things will start to get back to normal."

By this time, Kate had worked herself up into a right state, and she eagerly pounced upon her hapless husband's poor choice of words. "Normal, you think! Very little will ever be normal again, William. At least for me. I'll be spending my days looking after the child rather than out at the forge. You will still get to go about your old duties and the like; that is, if nothing else goes wrong in France and the whole lot of you aren't called away to war, leaving Christiana and I here in the middle of the country to mind the children. But I suppose I should at least be grateful I'll still have her company."

"Oh, and you think you're the only one feeling even the slightest bit of trepidation about all this, do you?" Will's eyes had narrowed with anger and Kate wondered fleetingly if she had perhaps pushed him too far this time. "I know the call to war is inevitable, as Prince Edward has already been more than generous in allowing me to remain at home until the babe is birthed. The summons, I expect, will arrive by the time of the child's christening. Many of the other nobles and lords have already been called away. And it is all too likely that once I arrive in Gascony, I will not return to England - or to you - for a year or more. Loathe as I may be to leave you and the baby here, and to separate Roland from Christiana and Mary, I am deeply indebted to the Prince and will not be able to refuse to join his army. Roland, Wat, and I have discussed it - they will travel with me, though I would never force them to do so.

"As for your other concerns, I swore to you before our marriage that I would never force you away from your work and shut you away indoors. And still I do not demand that you lay aside ther tools of your trade entirely. You know as well as I that the child will require much care and attention, and I will not always be capable of sharing the work with you. If you ask it of me, I will engage a nurse for the baby so that you will not be tied to the nursery, but there is honestly little else I can offer you."

Much of Will's anger had clamed into a sort of long-suffering frustration as he spoke, and when he was finished he took Kate by the hand. He led her back to the bedchamber, offering her a slight bow and half a smile. "I bid you a good night, my lady," Will murmured, and he turned and walked away from his wife.

Dumbfounded, Kate stood outside the door for a moment before her pride took hold of her. She stalked back to her bed and once again tried to sleep.

Breakfast the next morning was a tense affair. Kate was not in good spirits, and she avoided conversing directly with her repentant husband. Ever perceptive, Christiana had noticed all was not well, and exchanged many significant looks with Will and Roland; thankfully Wat was too absorbed in his food to notice the tension. Kate concentrated on poking at her bowl of porridge, pushing it around in the bowl and eating very little. Her behaviour had captured Will's attention, and his efforts to catch her eye escalated into direct inquiries of her health. Kate stoically ignored him, and Will shot an inquisitive glance towards Christiana, no doubt hoping that she would have some sort of answer for him. When Kate fianlly ceased her fidgeting and rose from the table, William leaped from his chair to assist her. He took her by the elbow and escorted her from the room, asking Wat and Roland to meet him for sword practice around midday.

Will led Kate into her sitting room, helping her setlle in an armachair before turning to shut the door. He paced restlessly before her, shooting her an agonising look every few moments. Trying to look aloof and unconcerned, Kate picked up her crocheting from a nearby basket and began to work.

"Look, I'm sorry for whatever I've done to offend you." Will's words came suddenly. "I just can't seem to do naught but wrong. Tell me what troubles you, so we can resolve it and end this madness." His dark eyes pleading, he looked so desperate to appease her that she nearly yielded to him, but the absolute terror she felt at their imminent separation overcame her common sense and forced her to press the advantage she held over him.

She sighed and lifted her eyes to meet William's, knowing his reaction to her proposal would be swift and not at all in her favour; still, she had to try. "When the summons comes, let me go to France with you."

It was as she expected: Will's face flushed scarlet and his eyes flashed violently as he refused her request. "Are you mad? Why would you ever believe I would risk you so in battle? Even were you not soon to be a mother, Kate, I could not permit you to accompany me to war."

Her protests rang hollow even to her own ears. "There will be others encamped with the army who will not be fighting. And surely it is much safer since the victory at Poitiers."

"Perhaps, but it matters little. 'Tis still far from safe in an army camp for a young woman nad her child. No, Kate, you cannot ask this of me. I would be unable to perform my duties, being in constant fear for your safety." He pulled a low stool up in front of her and took her hands in one of his. "I do not ask this of you only to trap you here in England while all the rest of our friends go and have a grand adventure. Please believe me when I say I would like nothing better than to have you there where I could look after you... and where you could lool after me."

When Kate spoke again, her voice was slightly hoarse. "I do understand that, William, and I knew before the words left my lips that it was not a reasonable request to make. But I fear it will be just as unbearable for me to watch you ride to war, knowing I may never see you come back again."

William smiled brightly at her, sensing the crisis had passed and all his wife needed was a bit of reassurance. He stood to help her to her feet. "I do not contradict you, my lady, for I daresay that if our places were reversed that I would myself dread being left at home to wait. But come, let us not think of such uncertain partings just now - it is still early enough yet that if we wish to have a lie-in we would not soon be missed. I believe that neither one of us managed to rest at all last night."

Two months later, just as the autumn leaves began to wilt and fall, the inevitable separation that both lovers had dreaded finally came about. While the rest of the household gathered in the courtyard to say farewell to the travellers, Kate retreated to her baby son's nursery. When Will noticed her absence and sought her out, he discovered her holding the boy and looking out the back window into the garden. He said nothing just then, but stepped slowly behind her and enfolded her in a tight embrace. Resting his chin atop her soft hair, he asked, "Did you not intend to say good-bye?"

Kate shifted the baby into one arm and clasped her hand with Will's. "I spoke to Wat and Roland just after breakfast, and I knew you would find me... but I cannot watch you ride away from here." She turned her head and smiled up at him sadly. Will gazed down at her, eyes bright with unshed tears, then reached out and lifted his son from her arms. He held the little boy close for a moment, kissing his forehead before gently settling him in his cradle. Turning his attention back to his wife, Will swept Kate up in his arms and kissed her longingly. The pair broke apart, pressing their foreheads together. Kate could feel tears forming behind her own eyelids but resolved to hold them back; Will should not remember her last as a weeping girl.

Will broke the silence abruptly. "You take care of our boy, and especially of yourself. I promise to return as soon as I'm able."

"I will. He kissed her again, the pulled away and walked through the door. Kate turned back to the window as she heard his footsteps echoing through the house. Shouted good wishes drifted up though the window as the horses galloped away.


End file.
